


Devil's Ballet

by by_veidt



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bed Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Floor Sex, Hand Jobs, Implied Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Nipple Licking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/by_veidt/pseuds/by_veidt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the medic has it's perks, but Simon wasn't prepared for this kind of medical emergency.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bananimosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananimosity/gifts).



> Was going to call it Reever Madness, but that's too silly, but I also wanted someone to appreciate it. Dubious consent kind of ? Beware. I also couldn't possibly name all of the tags technically needed. It's porn; you know what comes next. And enjoy. Ch 1/4?  
> Edit: I always write with music playing, and I've had people ask me about that before, so here are some songs I listen to habitually writing this. I hope you like them too.  
> Huntington-Secret  
> Russel Elliot-Around  
> Kazaky-Touch Me  
> Varien-Valkyrie  
> Tango Santa Maria  
> Asbjorn-The Love You Have In You

Time can be so subjective; an aberration of consciousness. Simon felt seconds pass between each heartbeat, though it was less than one. His feet hit the ground one after the other, dust costing him friction he desperately needed. A stumble caused another spike in adrenaline, the ground offering no purchase. His forearm hit first as tumbled, the imminent proposition of death encouraged by the inhuman screeching and erratic footsteps coming up quickly behind him. Zoe's words echoed in his mind as he turned up to the sun, a mangled face and bared teeth almost upon him.  
He threw up a frantic kick, his foot entangled by hungry hands as he started to slide across the ground, gravel digging into his back as it became exposed by panicked flailing. An aggravated scream above him and a flash of something silver was cut short by a nearby blast, his foot hitting the ground as he turned towards the sound.  
Mal was staring into him, pistol still trained on the thrashing body near Simon's. Mal's mouth was moving, but Simon couldn't hear anything but screaming. He scrambled to his feet and started to run, looking back in time to see three small darts hit Mal's neck, pistol falling from his hand, his knees giving chase. His hand met his neck as his eyes found Simon's. There was no hesitation and all of the time in the world. Shepherd would watch after River, and Mal wouldn't die alone. His shoes slid in the dirt as Simon stooped over Mal, getting his arm up around his shoulders. There was heavy trod of feet coming at them, but it was silenced by a shotgun blast over them. Simon looked to the Zoe as she examined them quickly before reloading.  
Simon stood and stumbled under Mal's weight. He readjusted and hurried past another shot. He threw himself and Mal onto the rising lift gate. Simon turned with an outstretched hand to Zoe who was already up and on the gate. He pulled his hand back and slid down the platform, kneeling besides Mal. The Captain slowly blinked and stare off as Simon called his name.  
Serenity made a noise—pensive. The stress of space; a noiselessness that could nearly be matched by the interior of the ship.

\----

Simon fidgeted with several tools in a drawer. There was little purpose to the neurotic organization, but it helped alleviate some uneasiness about the Captain's unconscious condition. He slid the drawer closed and started to turn around, shoulder bumping against Mal's chest. Simon jumped with a sharp breath, hand grasping at the counter as his heart pounded.  
He opened his mouth for a hearty scolding, but couldn't before his body was squared against the counter, a sharp pressure on his neck as Mal bit into it.  
“Ba de!” Simon yelled, shoving Mal back. He could see Mal's pupils were dilated, breath heavy, an almost panicked look about him. And /he/ was panicking. Mal couldn't control any thought or impulse and the more he fought it, the worse it got. He wanted to kill Simon, and eat him, and fuck him, his head pounding as he fought off the worst of it, but you can't win every fight.  
Simon tried to sprint past him, becoming ensnared in Mal's grip as he slammed the doctor into the wall, mouth trying to smother the other's. “Mal...Mal,” Simon nearly barked, trying to avoid him and bring him out of it. Whatever 'it' was.  
“I—I can't...” Mal growled, conceding to Simon's avoidance and sucking at the swelling and flushed skin on the doctor's neck. Simon felt a distinct hardness against his lap, evaluating every factor as quickly as his brain could process the moment.  
“No, Mal. I can't. You don't want this—you need help.” He tried to shift away under him, quickly wriggling loose and making it halfway across the room before being apprehended against the operating table. Mal ground himself against Simon's ass before turning him around to face him.  
Heavy footsteps were muted behind the walls, Jayne wandering down the stairs, headed to the mess hall. His body jolted at the glance he stole through an infirmary window; a lecherous grin forming as he peered inside. “No way,” he muttered, settling against a handrail.  
Mal's fingers clumsily hurried Simon's belt and fly open, Simon's hand halfheartedly trying to fight him back. He had fantasized about the Captain's hands frantically trying to get under his clothes, but he didn't want to take advantage of the Captain's intoxicated state. Simon couldn't shake the thought of this being terribly wrong, but judging by the weakened impulse control Mal was exhibiting, he must have thought about it as some point too.  
Mal was fighting all of the slightest images that might have crossed his mind about that pretty doctor and some part of him regretted it; part of him hated Simon for having such perfect porcelain skin and rosy, pouty lips and full luxurious hair with supple and indulgent skin pulled taut over surprising musculature. Mal could feel his pulse in his throat, sweat making his clothes stick and he couldn't fight the impulse that was consuming him. There was a flicker of hesitation when he thrust Simon's pants and briefs down, an almost victimized gasp parting the doctor's lips. Mal didn't want to hurt him in any serious way, but he couldn't stop. He could only hope Simon wanted it and hope the doctor's eager hardness was a positive reaction.  
Mal crouched and took the other's flushed cock into his mouth. Simon nearly doubling over on him, hands on Mal's shoulders for support. A stalling moan followed a deep inhale, eyes closed as Simon dropped his guard a bit.  
Jayne's brow raised a bit, hand idly shifting his hardening length through his pants. “This is hot,” he muttered to himself, hand starting to stroke himself.  
Teeth threatened Simon's delicate skin with each mock thrust, one hand clamping over his mouth to stop from crying out, eyes fluttering open for only a moment to make sure he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. Mal's pupil-darkened eyes locking onto the medic's, Simon's fingers tightening in his shoulder at a particularly compelling draw of the tongue, a stifled noise spilling over Simon's hand.  
Mal freed his mouth, standing and undoing his fly, “How about I give you something to really scream about.” Mal pulled Simon's hand from his mouth and pressed it to the heated flesh concealed by fabric. Simon's fingers articulated around the distinct shape, eyes following and making it difficult to swallow.  
“Let me...just...” he stuttered, looking down again, his breath shallow. Mal withdrew his cock, guiding Simon's hand to it, growling at the touch. He might not have been able to stop himself, but he wasn't going to kill Simon, and he would make it as nice as he could.  
Simon began to lower himself, but was seized by a firm hand clenching his shirt, pulling him back up and onto the table. Simon's eyes went doey, Mal recognizing the apprehensive fear; he snarled and reached over to the counter, grabbing a container of antiseptic cream. He tossed the lid to the ground, laying a large amount up and down his straining member. He cupped a hand under one of Simon's knees, forcing him to hold himself on the opposite edge of the table. A slick hand trailed through the part of his ass up to the tip of his needy cock and the doctor blanched slightly.  
“Oh yeah, give it to him,” Jayne licked his lips, palming his throbbing length more methodically through the leg of his trousers. He always thought the doctor needed a good doings, he just never thought he'd get to see it happen.  
Mal put a strong hand against Simon's shoulder, pushing him back flat on the table, head lolling slightly off the edge. The hand griped his up angled thigh and slid him closer, pressing himself into the resistant flesh. His hand pushed up against the back of the doctor's knee again, sliding in farther with little friction. Simon's arms spread the length of the table, gripping the cold steel as his head fell to his right. It hurt so good and he hated himself for doing this to Mal, but loved it so much.  
Mal's fingers curled into Simon's thigh when he couldn't go any further, taking a much needed breath. Simon looking like a storybook angel, and Mal was dragging him down to hell, purity and wings burning away. And Simon was loving every minute of it. Mal thrust into him, other hand catching the doctor's other leg and running a hand up to the ankle, white streaks of residual cream leaving a trail of evidence across the rich black. Mal let out a breath against the perfectly sculpted calf, thrusting in again. A restrained rhythm soon formed, drawing a languid moan from deep in Simon's lungs. The sound almost made Mal's skin crawl as he clutched the one leg against his chest, liberating some restraint. Simon's grip tightened, a quick gasp fueling a throaty half-moan of “Oh, Captain.”  
There was a quick patter down the stairs that made Jayne jump, turning to see Kaylee. “Is everything ok? Inara an' I heard a ruckus an--” She glanced in the window and squinted a bit. “What's the Captain, oh--” her hands went up over her mouth as she backed up. Jayne just grinned stupidly at her. Inara wasn't far behind double-taking as she looked through the first window near the stairs.  
“He almost looks better 'n you Inara.” Jayne prodded.  
“You will never know, and both of you need to leave right now,” she replied coolly, trying to shoo them.  
“But...they're...”Kaylee stammered, eyes fixed until Inara pushed her along.  
“I know,” Inara soothed as she guided the two away from the infirmary.]  
“But it's just getting good!” Jayne protested, begrudgingly shuffling off with some encouragement.  
Simon bit a cry into his knuckle, body arching slightly, and he was so pretty, but all Mal could think about was breaking him. But he wouldn't break, he would mold. Everything Mal did, the doctor evolved, eliciting every wrack of bliss from every gesture and thrust and tightening of fingers. Mal's left palm slapped onto the table next to Simon's rib-cage, panting harder as the thrusts became more erratic. Simon could feel a lightheadedness that he would occasionally find the coherency to lift his head to relieve, but the pressure of his quelling orgasm made it nearly impossible to think. He found himself succumbing to the sensation. His head fell back again with an indulgent moan, hand clutching the pliant surface of the table before gripping his neglected cock.  
Mal could feel the body beneath him tighten, eyes prowling over Simon's before settling on the doctor's frantic ministrations. Mal let go of a heavy breath, his groin tightening. His grip pulled against the table and Simon's leg, a quick jolt ran through Simon, a suffocating moan ringing in Mal's ears as he came hard in the doctor. Simon's body moved slightly with the residual thrusts, mind humming slightly. As cognition came creeping back to him, he could only pray River couldn't hear him or worse, Mal. Mal. Simon found Mal's face, his eyes closed-pensive. The struggle was obvious and Simon felt and imminent cataclysm pending behind that focused expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of four(?) chapters. I will provide two alternate endings because I cannot decide which one to settle on. Thanks for reading. And feel free to comment


	2. Going Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the first ending. It's getting long, so I thought I'd break it up. There's not really any humping in it, so if you're here for that, you'll have to wait.

Mal's eyes opened quickly, focused, staring down at Simon. Their gazes met for just a moment before his eyes rolled back, body following. Simon reached for his shirt, using every ounce of strength to keep Mal upright as he fell unconscious. The infirmary doors slid open, but Simon barely noticed before Jayne was in his field of vision. “Let me help you with that,” he said coyly, not even trying to hide the lascivious smirk. He got under Mal, backing up just enough to get out of Simon's way as he stepped off of the table, Mal dropped into his place. Jayne roughly arranged the man on the table accordingly, swiftly, so he wouldn't miss his chance to molest Simon with his gaze, watching the doctor squirm under his leer.   
“Thank you,” Simon said away from him, feeling the hot flush that flooded his face. He tried to hide his cum smeared flesh with his shirt, but he knew it was for nothing. “The Captain is very ill. I don't know if there is a cure to this.”  
“From here it seems like your fit to keep treating him,” Jayne grinned, stepping closer. He loved the way the doc considered retreating, his vulnerability fueling Jayne's antagonization.  
“That's not...” he sighed instead of finishing, mostly because he didn't know what to say. Of course he couldn't keep doing this if the condition persisted, but Jayne wasn't saying it with any intent except to rile him. And the way Jayne started him down he might as well have been afflicted. Simon swallowed in the stillness, waiting, as Jayne was, for the first person to move or speak. Surprisingly, it was Mal who groaned slightly with a heavy breath, body tensing up and relaxing again. Simon exchanged a hardened glance with the other before walking out of the infirmary to find some running water and change of clothes.   
He emerged from his room, looking down as he rounded the corner, but up swiftly as Jayne leaned in with an arm to blockade the doorway. “You looked pretty good on that table. Wouldn't say I'd mind getting a better view.”  
Simon's mouth fell open slightly, confusion, indignance, and irritation washing over him and suddenly he was reminded of Canton. There was pause as he stared off at nothing, “Everyone's going insane.” He tried to push past him without acknowledging anything but his own thoughts, Jayne obstructing him.  
“Just didn't know you were sly is all—should'a, the way you cat-foot around Kaylee.”   
“I've never seen you look twice at another man you weren't intent on killing,” Simon said flatly, not in the mood for this game and certainly not in the mood to discuss his sexual proclivities and preferences with Jayne.  
“So you've been looking,” Jayne grinned, leaning forward just enough. “Maybe I just want a piece of that pretty ass if you're just giving it away.” He had backed Simon up against his door, waiting for any sign of agreement.   
There was none. Simon met his gaze, annoyance swiftly turning to borderline anger. “The job failed, our only business connection on this planet was in that town which has now been razed--we can only hope he killed himself first, our Captain may die, and you're propositioning me based on a pretty-arguably non-consensual transaction that just happened not ten minutes ago where Mal fell just short of eviscerating me...?”  
“Seem like you need it,” he shrugged slightly. Simon pushed past him with little resistance, briskly stalking towards the infirmary. Jayne just huffed down at the spot where the doctor had been, a brief chuckle following.  
Mal was quiet for the time being, Simon's hand resting for a moment on the Captain's forehead. He stared off at nothing, trying to shake the memories of what had happened as he sought his mind for a solution. Maybe it was in the memory. He mulled over every observation he made, stomach tightening until it connected. SNRI. He turned to search through all of the infirmary cabinets and drawers, sighing over the last drawer. Where was he going to get a core medication.   
He stood outside of Jayne's bunk door for what seemed like half an hour—it was more like five minutes. It was closed so he paged the intercom, but heard to response. He looked around carefully. It was late, but he couldn't be asleep. He pushed the door open with his foot awkwardly, unaccustomed to the mechanism. He looked around again and silently descended the ladder. The room was dark and Jayne wasn't in his bed. He nervously surveyed the room, hesitant to touch anything he didn't need to, or anything for that matter. He approached the cabinet down by the opposite end of the bunk, opening it carefully, as to why he couldn't say. He huffed and closed the door, straightening himself, hands rubbing over his face. “Where,” he whispered to himself. He kneeled and reached under the bed pulling out a solid plastic storage box. He paused before opening it, annoyed at his desperation. Four bottles of Venlafaxine stared at him—at least something good came of Ariel. He grabbed one bottle, latching the bin and sliding it back into place.   
As he stood and turned, worn boots came into his line of sight, jumping back and clutching the bottle to himself like a shield. “What're you doing in here?” Jayne's voice was low and threatening.   
Simon steeled himself, the hard swallow too loud in his ears and the dark stillness of the room. “I need these for Mal. It's the only thing that will help him.” The air was thick, and the dim glow of the guide lights made Jayne's features indiscernible.   
“It'll cost ya...” He stepped forward, hand finding Simon's waist and sliding down. There was a sharp crack in the air, a firm slap echoing across Jayne's cheek. Simon swallowed again, eyes fiery as he stared the other man down, regretting that action in the pit of his stomach.   
There was light chuckle as Jayne pulled his hand away. “Gaisi de, I was just kiddin' ya.” Simon withdrew his stare, pulling inward; now he really regretted it.  
“I'm sorry, I'm just still wound up about all of it.”  
“You better get those to the Captain,” Jayne interrupted. There was a beat of silence between them before Simon stepped around him without a glance, headed up to the infirmary. Jayne unfastened his pants, falling onto his cot and closing his eyes as he withdrew himself. 

 

Days had passed and Mal was on the mend. He was still restricted to the infirmary, which he was more than irritated about. He could only sleep and disorganize things so many times knowing that his ship needed him. Zoe assured him his presence wasn't needed at this moment; that was the point of having a first mate.   
Simon was shining a pen light across Mal's eyes, observing the pupil constriction. “So, we gonna talk about this?” Mal offered, the avoidance of the topic finally wearing him down.   
“There's nothing to talk about,” Simon replied distantly, more focused on his routine.   
“I think there's a might to talk about. Don't need half formed thoughts and notions cluttering up head space.”   
Simon sighed, mostly to himself, recording his observations and turning back to Mal. “What would you like to talk about?” His tone was pointed, but level. He didn't particularly want to ever have this conversation. It could break off into too many directions to plan for and he didn't particularly like the notion of struggling for words.   
“Well... how are you feeling?”  
“How am I ...feeling?” Simon's lip pulled up slightly at the annoyed confusion.   
“Well, what the go tsao de question am I supposed to ask!” Probably not the best choice of words, but that was his knee-jerk reaction for feeling like a fool. It was actually the most normal he had been, and that relieved Simon. He fought a brief smile as he looked down, taking Mal's wrist in his hand as he checked his pulse. “I'm sorry.”  
“For what?”   
“For the other day, for what happened. I didn't--”  
“You remember what happened?”   
“More than I'd ever like to.” Mal waited to catch Simon's attention; it wasn't long.   
“So, why are you apologizing?” Mal was taken aback by the question, looking around exaggeratedly, but actually looking for anyone snooping in the windows.   
“I figured it was for the crazed sexin' that I forced onto you the other day, but you're making me second guess my recollection.”  
“I was under the impression that I was the one taking advantage of the situation,” Simon said hollowly—not one of his prouder moments.   
Mal almost recoiled backwards. “You mean the part where I bit you, or the part where I fucked you through this ta ma de table?”   
Simon felt himself blush at the crass phrasing. “You weren't of sound mind, and I didn't make a firm enough to attempt to stop you.”   
“If you had, I might have killed you. That being said, I don't think me putting you in the position of...well, that position, or death is entirely a fair choice. Cant' say I'm really complaining about the choice you made.” The words looked like they were bouncing off his medic, a solid wall between them not-visible, but felt.   
“I think I'm confused.”  
“Well, you damn well look the part.”  
“You feel like you coerced me?”  
“Well, from my point of view, that's certainly how it was lookin'. Am I mistaken?”  
“Clearly.” Simon was looking off at one of the handles to a drawer, thoughts rolling around like marbles in his skull. Simon picked up a thermometer, opening his mouth to Mal as instructions. Mal let his mouth fall open, closing it slowly around the device, a small smile growing. Simon removed the thermometer after it beeped, writing down the number on the display. “You're still running a little hot.”  
Mal resisted the temptation to say something lewd, moments passing as his doctor flipped back and fourth between pages. “So... how was it?” There was a hubris in his voice that he couldn't hide, smirking just a little as he licked his lips .  
“Adequate,” he replied immediately, still flipping a page back a fourth, but couldn't hide a coy smile and barely a glance over to the Captain.  
“Looked like you were enjoying it some. Borderline reaver not rough enough for you?” And at the Simon couldn't hide the grin that formed after a short laugh. He set his stethoscope in his ears and stepped in front of Mal again. Mal grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him just closer. “How about I show you just how rough I can be?”  
Simon batted his hands away, almost playfully, listening to his heart. “Maybe you can just be gentle with me next time.”  
“Oh, so there's a next time?”  
There wasn't a response as Simon listened. Mal filled in the space by running his hand up the doctor's inner thigh. He stopped just short of his groin, thumb pressing into the crease just below his hip. There eyes crossed for a moment before Simon pulled the stethoscope off and setting on the table. He made a quarter turn and bent at the waist to slowly roll up on of Mal's pants legs, examining a wound. Mal swallowed as his medic's ass presented it self to him, hand running up and over it and down Simon's back. He made a pensive noise as he examined the wound, but to Mal it sounded more like a moan that made his cock twitch.   
He rolled his pant leg back down, drawing his hands up Mal's shin, turning just enough that he practically sat back against the Captain's lap as he stood. Firm hands found his hips as Mal ground against the other, an anxious breath heating the back of Simon's neck. He went to stand, but the grip was persistent, pulling him back. His heart spend up a few beats, removing the hands and stepping away. He heard Mal get up to follow him, turning around as Mal backed him into the wall. Now Simon could really feel his heart in his throat, but not in the way he wanted to.   
Mal leaned against the wall by his arms, boxing Simon in.“You're just going to tease me like that and walk away?”   
“Precisely.” There was a faint chuckle from Mal that carried more of a tone of disbelief. He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair. The doctor stepped back over to the table, transcribing more information. “It seems you're reacting well to the medication. We can start weaning you off of it.”  
“So, what, you're just testing me?”  
“Give him a prize.” He stared down at his paper, focused on keeping his notes legible. Mal came up behind him, giving his hips a good yank back against his still hard and waiting cock.  
“And what if you'd been wrong, doc?” He pushed Simon down onto the table, the infirmary door sliding open and Jayne stepping in. Mal nearly jumped back, staring right at the gunman as he nodded briefly, hiding a smile.  
“That's why I have him,” Simon replied smugly, righting himself.  
“Well, aint his just yī dà tuó dà biàn. And how did this little understanding come about?” Simon and Jayne exchanged glances, Jayne crossing his arms.   
“How any understandin' comes about, I reckon,” Jayne shrugged.   
“He's a kai tze now?” Mal made his typical mock-surprise expression that was meant as a sideways insult. “I'll be alertin' Inara then.”  
“Well, maybe if you weren't goin' off putting him through every gorram table like some ching soh...” Jayne stopped himself when he saw Mal's defenses weaken at the statement. Mal sat back on the exam table, hands cupped as he looked down.   
Simon's gaze crossed Jayne's again as he turned to Mal. “Captain...”   
“No, he's right.”   
“It's not your fault.”


	3. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heavy between crew members; both are surprised the other is ready and willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have used a different chapter title, but nothing says freedom like gay sex. Happy 4th, everyone. And, as always, enjoy.

Simon was getting used to being pressed into walls at this point and he lad learned to stop hitting his head. The other man's mouth crushed against his, brow furrowed as the sensation overwhelmed him for a moment. He broke away in a pant, the other moving down to his neck. “I don't know if this is a good idea,” he breathed, hands going up to the biceps of his assailant. 

“Course it ain't. That's what makes it fun,” he could feel the mouth grin against him, hands burrowing quickly under that crisp white shirt. A moan was stifled by the other's mouth again. There was some Core guilt growing as he second guessed giving this green light, even seeking it out, but that was dissipated by a grope of his hardening cock. “Gonna sully all that prim and proper right.” Eager hands felt around the doctor's waistline, trying to get under the fabric, but yielded by the slick leather belt. There was a muffled “Bed,” somewhere between their lips, Simon complying as gracefully as he could, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the bed. 

He watched the other kneel in the dim, pale blue light, taking one of Simon's feet onto his lap, untying his shoe with surprising delicacy and removing it, hand running up Simon's foot and up under his pant leg. The second shoe joined the other, rolling his socks off as well. Heavy hands found Simon's belt and obviously restrained lips found his, pushing him back gently. He worked on his shirt buttons while his pants were slid off, revealing his deep black briefs. He propped himself up on his elbows when there was too long of a beat between motions. “Jayne?”

“You look like a ruttin' paintin'.” 

“Thank you...?” He cocked his head to the side. 

“Just want to remember this for later.” It was surprisingly sentimental, but Simon just chalked it up as lonely bunk fodder. Jayne crawled onto the bed over him, kissing at the doctor's neck, hands roaming across his chest and stomach and soon over his shoulders, sliding the shirt down. He sucked at Simon's collarbone, Simon arching up against him with a coaxing, but soft moan as Jayne gave a hard squeeze to his already straining firmness.”Oh!” Simon almost jumped at the exclamation, Jayne crawling off of him and fiddling with something across the room. The hum of stillness was broken by a slow start to a deep toned song. A tango, Simon noted, smiling to himself at the absurdity of Jayne possessing such music. 

“Where did you find this?” 

“Planet-side, last time we touched down,” Jayne loomed over him again.

“...but why?” 

“Sounded sexy,” he beamed, returning to his place of giving Simon a thorough molesting. And Simon couldn't argue; it tickled him, but he couldn't argue. He never pegged Jayne as the gentle lover type, and he probably still wouldn't describe him that way, but he definitely seemed to be making an effort not to break his bed frame just yet.

Work-hardened hands pulled his waistband down, pulling his flushed cock out with a delicate stroke. Simon dropped himself to the bed, exhaling slowly as firmer strokes made him tense up. Jayne enjoyed watching the way the doctor's chest would pull up in a quick breath or arch of the back, the barely audible noises of appreciation complimenting the gentle echo of music. And it was all he could hope for; and it was all for him. 

Simon slowly rolled over, Jayne not missing the opportunity to get a good ass squeeze in before the medic pulled himself back onto his hands and knees. “Now that's just cruel. I ain't even got my ruttin' pants off yet.”

“I know.” He back up into Jayne until he was forced up from the bed. He turned to sit on the edge, pulling the mercenary back close to him by the belt until he was standing in between his parted legs. He unfastened it slowly as he locked eyes with the other, each movement precise as he barely avoided making contact with the erection straining against the rough cotton. His fingers slid into the waistline, finding bare skin. “No underwear?” His tone was playfully curious. 

“Figured it would just hold things up,” he leered. Simon slid the cargo pants down further, face to face with Jayne's uninhibited prominence. He took him gently into his mouth, strong digits sliding through his hair as he did and a breathy groan following. Jayne gently thrust in and out of his mouth, Simon looking up for a moment, smiling to himself at the other man watching him intently. Jayne withdrew himself and pushed the doctor back, sliding the doctor's briefs off and climbing over him, Simon pulling the t-shirt up and over his head. His hands graced over Jayne's chest and down around his waist, entangling him with another heated kiss. The heat and weight was a sensation long missed by the doctor; he had forgotten just how good even that moment could feel, craving the closeness. 

Jayne broke away from him, leaning far over him, grabbing bottle of slick from the cabinet. As he leaned back Simon was reach to unfasten the cuffs of his shirt, Jayne grabbing the hand on the button. “Leave it on. I want something to grapple ya by,” he grinned. Simon could feel the heat rise into his neck, placing his hands back onto the man above him. Wet fingers prowled along him, until they passed over that tight ring of muscle, middle finger gingerly pressing into him. A soft gasp passed over his lips, Jayne's curling in a smile against Simon's neck as he kissed at the increasingly warm skin. Another finger and stifled groan and Jayne's mouth was farther down, teeth nipping at tender, raised flesh. “Oh, Jayne, that's feels very nice,” Simon half-moaned, his impassioned voice making Jayne's cock throb, but his words still had too much thought put into them; he aimed to remedy that. Another finger and he felt Simon's body tighten, and Jayne couldn't help but mull over the idea of the pain he must have had to cope with when Mal was moonbrained. Jayne had just assumed Simon was used to it, but not feeling him now. 

Another throaty beckon and Jayne couldn't wait any longer. He withdrew his fingers slowly, guiding Simon onto his hands and knees. Simon settled on his forearms, arching himself up towards Jayne, bumping himself back against the mercenary tauntingly as Jayne slicked himself up. “Just you wait,” Jayne threatened, free hand grabbing a handful of the doctor's ass. 

“Going to hump me like the mutt you are?” He taunted, grinning as he peeked over his shoulder.

“That's right. Until that pretty Core mouth shames your folks.” He rubbed himself up against the cleft of that too white skin. 

Simon just chuckled to himself, lowering his forehead to his arms. “We'll see.”

“Not if I can help it.” Jayne thrust into him, a sharp cry echoing from under him as Simon's body strung taut. A hand found Simon's mouth, catching the tight noises that spilled out as he thrust deeper into him, bowing his body back.“Shh...you'll wake the neighbors.” They both knew with the hatch closed little noise was going to escape the room, but Jayne couldn't resist the urge to taunt him. He had Simon pinned to the mattress, rutting into him as deep as he could, hand still around the doctor's mouth, but fingers spread just enough to let him pant through them and so Jayne could hear all of those delicious noises. His other arm wrapped around Simon's waist, keeping a steady rhythm as Simon involuntarily squirmed under him. “You like that, Core brat?” he growled into the medic's ear, biting lightly into where his shoulder and neck met. Simon nodded, licking at Jayne's fingers. The mercenary leaned back, pulling Simon up onto his hands with a firm grip in his bunched up shirt “Then say it.”

“You hump arguably well for a rim planet mutt,” he panted, a coy smile finding him as he dropped his head again.

“Well, that won't do,” Jayne muttered, but he had to admit he was enjoying himself just the same. The music was still slow enough that he figured he could draw it out. He reached for the shirt again, it pulling quickly off of Simon's shoulders and catching on his cuffs as his arms followed behind him. Jayne wound his hand around the fabric until it pulled tight, pulling the doctor into a deeper arch back, suspended by his trussed arms. Jayne pulled just a little more and thrust a little harder, a heavy moan catching the mercenary off guard. The way that lithe, flawless body under him practically bounced against his lap in this position, Jayne figured he could do this for the rest of his days and not feel like he was missing anything in the verse. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he could feel the doctor's body tighten a bit more and pulled him back further, hand splaying across the precisely sculpted chest, forgoing his grip on the shirt. He ground up against him a bit slower, Simon's head falling back onto Jayne's shoulder.”Why didn't we do this sooner?” He slurred, kissing at Jayne's jaw. 

“Because you're a prissy, little dove, and you rile my nerve some.” His voice was gruff, but not in it's usual way. He kissed and sucked at Simon's neck. He wanted to tell Simon that it was because he didn't think the doctor would ever give him the time of day, but he was hilt deep in the man with him grinding against him, so he wasn't about to spoil the mood with old notions. “But you're ruttin' pretty. And pretty good at doctorin'.” 

“Mm...” was the only response, letting Jayne feel him up more, giving the base of his cock a good squeeze before wrapping his arms around the doctor. He ground against him for a good while, half thrusting up into him as he held the doctor tight against him. He leaned Simon forward again, dropping him unceremoniously onto the bed and withdrawing from him. There was a disconcerted noise beneath him as he reslicked himself, watching the medic roll to his side, arms still pinioned behind his back. And he was gorgeous—sweat sheened skin that caught that hazy blue glow, hair entirely out of place, but still perfect, that desperate flush over that softly sculpted form that spilled up into his feral eyes.

Jayne almost snorted a chuckle. “Is that how you want it now?” It was rhetorical, so Simon just grinned slowly, facing up more and watching the nothingness on the ceiling. Jayne straddled one of Simon's thighs, cradling the other against his body. He guided himself into the waiting body. Simon's shoulders pulled in, Jayne pinning his hands to the bed to keep him face up. With one hand on Simon's ensnared hands, one leg clutched to his chest and pants pinning the other, Jayne had the doctor exactly how he wanted him. He thrust hard and heavy into his immobilized prey. 

“Lao tien fu,” Simon panted, those gray eyes transfixed on Jayne from under a furrowed brow. 

Jayne looked up at him, grinning stupidly at the doctor because he couldn't help it. “Gettin' closer.” Simon's head fell back with a tight-jawed groan, a familiar, but strange tension growing in his loins. Jayne leaned forward, bracing himself on either side of the medic, driving faster into him. Simon's eyelids fluttered and Jayne hesitated to look away, but decided on laying kisses across the man's chest. 

“Oh, Jayne,” spilled over the broken moans, Jayne's hands snaking under the back of Simon's head. There eyes met for a moment, the intensity in the doctor's eyes almost sending Jayne over the edge. A throaty 'fuck' escaped Simon's lips before Jayne's sealed over his, muffling the ribald keening as Simon came hard, body arched up against Jayne's. The mercenary's mouth slid down to the other's neck, sucking at the damp skin as Simon drew in harsh breaths littered with soft, surprised and elated noises. Jayne pushed into him much slower, hands moving down under his shoulders, kissing his jaw. Simon's eyes slowly opened as the rush of sensation fell, staring blankly at the point where the wall met the ceiling. He felt lightheaded and closed his eyes again, focusing on staying conscious. He let out a long and exhausted breath, opening his eyes again. He turned his head slightly against Jayne's, the other pulling back and finding his gaze. 

“You alright, doc?” Jayne half-smiled, enjoying the star-gazing look Simon was wearing, and feeling quite proud of himself. Simon blinked slowly, swallowing, and nodding. “Good, 'cause I'm far from done with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people want me to write more for this ending, I will. I have places to go with it, but I'm going to work on the other one in the meantime. Thanks for reading.


	4. Nature of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other ending(offshoot?).

Simon watched Mal swallow above him, slowly trying to sit up. Mal's gaze snapped open and fell on Simon as he moved, the doctor now still as he watched the other. He watched a trail of saliva gather and fall from Mal's lower lip, swallowing and shifting to move again. And at that Mal lunged for him, Simon's hands locked against the captain's shoulders as he struggled underneath him. “Mal, no! You have to fight it.” He could feel the cool wetness hit his neck as Mal pressed closer, the unintended thrusting into him by Mal's still solid cock weakening him. “Mal...please.” The captain grit his teeth as he dropped his forehead to Simon's collarbone, and Simon could almost hear the pounding in Mal's chest as he struggled with himself. 

“I can't...” 

“You have to. Or you're going to kill me.” Simon looked toward the infirmary door and back up to the ceiling, closing his eyes momentarily before using the pause to shove Mal to the side. The clatter of tray on the floor seemed deafening as he scrambled for the door, meeting in with enough force to knock the wind out of him as Mal pinned him to it with his body, biting into his shoulder, his shirt a thin guard. And he couldn't even scream as Mal shook at the flesh between his teeth. Simon threw an elbow back, breaking away only long enough to be hit to the ground, face smacking hard into the floor. He felt himself pulled up to his knees by his bare hips, clawing for purchase on the smooth ground. He got up to his hands and drew in a shallow breath before throwing his head back, colliding with Mal's. He hit the ground as Mal released him, dazed, but free. He crawled forward, disoriented, but determined, a tight hand finding his left ankle. He reached up and fumbled in one of the drawers, spilling several bottles and packaged syringes out onto the floor. He reached for a bottle and tore through a pack as he slid backwards along the tile. He turned as he finished drawing the fluid, resisting Mal with his forearm as he plunged the needle into the captain's arm. Mal snapped at Simon's throat as he drew closer, Simon's strength giving way. He closed his eyes, Mal's breath hot on him and the clacking of teeth terrifying him. And in that moment he felt the pressure change, Mal's body growing limp against him. The doctor let him fall onto him with a heavy breath, staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and laid there for a few more moments, letting the bottle of tranquilizer roll from his hand, echoing in the stillness of the room.

 

A week had passed and Simon couldn't be anywhere on the ship without thinking about what had happened, so he wasn't. He was watching River silently talk with the horses of a small rim planet town they had landed near. They made her laugh, and that made him smile. And she was fearless with them, something he envied. He watched from the safety of the outside of the fence. “They're a lot alike.” Mal's voice made Simon jump, and he didn't like to think why. Mal crossed his arms and laid them across the top fence beam like Simon, watching River. 

“How so?”

“Well, they're both pretty graceful, too smart for their own good, and squirrellier than a two-faced cat. And one good kick will put you six feet under, I imagine.”

“Mm,” he replied distantly as he mulled over the thought. He didn't like to think of his sister as a lethal weapon, but was finding less and less sound arguments against the point. 

“I don't really want to have this conversation around your sister, but you're making finding you on the ship a might difficult, which I have to say has been mildly impressive seeing as how Serenity ain't no cargo ship.”

There was a long pause as they both stared out into the corral. “Alright.” Simon turned and headed back towards the ship. He knew Kaylee was nearby, and knew River knew as well. 

Simon swallowed as the walk back was initially quiet. He didn't know what to say, and it seemed like Mal didn't either. “So, how's this going to play out?”

“However you like. I don't really know what you want to talk about.”

“How about that I haven't seen hide nor hair of my medic for a week solid.”

“My apologies. I've been busy.”

“Ain't nothing to be busy with, but you'd know that if you'd seen any of the crew either. What if something had happened to one of us?” 

“You misinterpret my lack of presence for absence.”

“Seeing as how that's the generally accepted definition, I wouldn't call it much of a misinterpretation.”

“I have been very aware of the condition of the crew.” 

“And I'm just supposed to trust that?”

“That is why you agreed to have me onboard.”

Mal rolled his shoulders back and stopped, looking up at the sky for a moment of patience. Simon stopped and turned towards him. There was a strong silence around them. Not even the wind as it brought a roll of dust. “Look. I'm sorry for what happened. I don't know what else to do about it. I don't even want to think about it.”

“I'm not upset with you.” Simon's brow furrowed slightly.

“Then what is it?” Mal's voice was sharp and frustrated. 

Simon swallowed. “I'm upset with myself.”

“For what? You break somethin' I don't know about?”

He gave him a flat look, annoyed that the captain didn't know what he was talking about. “That I took advantage of you.” 

Mal looked startled. “I don't know if we are talking about the same thing.”

“I should have tranquilized you first, not indulge my petty and perverse fantasies.” He closed his eyes as he realized how that sentenced ended—he didn't intend to share that. Mal's lips flickered into a small smile as his stomach tightened. “It was extremely unprofessional and reprehensible. And I regret every second of it.”

“Hey, it's not like I gave you much of a choice.” Mal offered a faint smile, not sure what he should actually be doing. 

“I'm not fit to be your or anyone's doctor.” He turned to finish heading back to the ship. 

“Hey!” Mal grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him again. “This wasn't exactly a black and white situation—I'm pretty sure no one can prepare for that kind of..whatever that was. You kept me from killing you, which I would have regretted. This... well.” He shrugged. “I don't know if that's how I'd want to be known as far as my in bed reputation goes, but I can't say it was the worst time I've had.”

“You're being so flippant about this.” 

“Well, you're taking it harder than me, so to speak. I just don't want you goin' around feelin' like you did some terrible thing.”

“You're really not that upset about this.”

“I was when I thought I'd lose a medic over it, but I had no idea you were under the impression it was your fault or I would have cut that horse loose. So, how do we fix this?” 

“I suppose it's resolved.”

 

Simon stood over and open drawer in the infirmary. They were out in the black again, and he missed the simplicity of watching his sister gallivant with horses. He had finished patching up a wound Jayne had sustained in a bar fight, and after some lewd remarks, had finally gone away from the medic. He closed his eyes, the tightness in his stomach and chest growing as he thought about what had happened and the conversation around it. More so, the implication of admitting to Mal that he had lascivious thoughts about the man more than seldom. The infirmary door slid open, and he took in a breath. 

“Haven't seen you around much. Figured I'd see how you were doin' after word got around.” Zoe's voice was always calm—not necessarily comforting, but calm. A voice of reason. 

“Yes, well, I've had a lot on my mind.”

“That's a nice way of phrasing it.” There was a pause between them, Zoe looking down at her boots for a moment as she chose her next words. “Mal may not be easy to read, but he's certainly no engineer's manual. Might be worth reading a few pages in instead of thinkin' you know the whole story.”

“I don't think it's that easy.” He turned toward her. Her stare at him was flat, lips pursed very slightly.

“I think you'd be surprised.”

 

Simon stood at the metal door to Mal's dormitory. He stared at the ladder, taking in a breath. This was a bad idea, he thought. He could hear his heart pounding, the feeling almost suffocating. “Pretty fancy lookin' door, I know.” Mal voice down the hall made him jump. 

“No, I... I just...” Simon couldn't look straight at him and ran his hand over his mouth. Mal smiled to himself as he stopped near the medic. 

“Just...?” 

“Nothing.”

“Then do you mind if I get into my bunk?” Simon stepped out of the way and watched Mal press the door open and smile to him before climbing down. “You comin' down, or what?”

Simon looked down each side of the hall before descending the ladder. He looked around the room and back up to the door as it sealed closed. “I know it ain't what you're used to...”

“No, it's...nice.” Simon half-smiled, staring at the broad leafed plant on the table, wondering how it survived so well out here. “It's bigger than my room, anyway.”

“So, doc, what's on your mind? Must be might important for you to be down here. Sister? Jayne? Sister and Jayne?”

“What?? No.” Mal stepped closer to Simon as the doctor ran his hand fondly over one of the leaves. He turned towards Mal, the space between them mere inches. Simon swallowed and threaded his fingers under the other's suspenders, drawing them down along the line of his body. “I think you and I have certain needs as humans that are being horrifyingly ignored and since we both seem to have recently expressed our more... primal desires to express that with each other we should behave in a manner that is the most conducive to our mental health.”

“I don't know if I want to be takin' advantage of you more than I have.” He took Simon's hands in his own. Simon leaned in, sealing a delicate kiss onto his neck, pressing up against him. Mal stepped back slightly. “You been takin' lessons from Inara?” 

“Does this mean you're not interested?” Simon steeled himself, brain kicking at his ego as he reaffirmed that this was a terrible idea.

“No, I'm plenty interested, which is why I'm havin' such a hard time making the right decision here. I just don't wan-” Simon cut him off with a firm kiss, fingers pulling at his waistline to keep him close. 

Mal broke away from the kiss momentarily, staring into Simon before muttering “Go shi,” threading his fingers through the doctor's hair as he sealed his lips over the other's again, tongue ravaging through his mouth. Simon took a step back, leaning back against the table, Mal's mouth roving down to his neck, earning him a quiet moan. Strong hands grabbed Simon's ass, lifting him up on the table, knocking some tools out of the way in the process. Simon pulled at his suspender straps as Mal fidgeted with buttons on Simon's vest and soon his shirt, cursing under his breath. “You couldn't wear something easier?” 

“Do I come off as easy?”

“Not in this getup!” He threw Simon's shirt open and pushed it down his shoulders, biting and sucking at his neck and collarbone. Mal's groin pressed flush against the doctor's, pushing his legs up around Mal's hips. Simon blindly, but meticulously, unfastened the buttons down Mal's shirt, his breath shorter as he felt his skin flush and felt himself tense as the other ran his hands over his body and down under his belt, pressing up against him. “Oh, doc, what'i've thought about doin' to you,” Mal said softly against Simon's jaw, reveling in the softness of the other man. There were little pleasures Mal really wanted to indulge in in his life, and he never thought a male Core surgeon would be one of them, but damn if Simon didn't make him weak just at the sight of him, which, regrettably, put Mal on the defensive. But here he was, hot and needy, and as many situations as Mal could imagine getting into with him, this was better than all of them. 

“So, show me, Captain,” Simon said lowly, running a hand across Mal's chest under his shirt. They both felt Mal's cock throb at that. Mal stepped back and pulled Simon with him by a handful of shirt. Mal released him and hurried over to his cot, laying the blankets and sheets out across the floor. 

“I know it's not the most romant--”

“It's fine,” Simon smiled, and much closer than Mal had expected. As he turned, Simon pressed up against him, a feral grin peeking through his lips as he unfastened Mal's belt, popping his fly open in a swift yank. 

Mal gave a surprised, but interested look down. “Well, ain't this little colt hot to trot.”

Simon just gave a pandering head shake. He ran his hands up Mal's stomach and chest and over his shoulders, sliding his shirt and suspenders off. As they trailed back down, nimble fingers crept under Mal's pants and undergarments, digits sliding down his thighs as he crouched. Mal's straining cock brushed over the doctor's shoulder as he drew his hands back up, kissing tenderly up to Mal's hip. A shudder ran through the older man, hands kneading against the shoulders beneath him. The medic drew his tongue up the underside of the length in front of him, taking Mal in without hesitation, blood boiling. Mal's head fell back in a low groan, thrusting gently against the silky heat of Simon's mouth, a smile curling the corners of the doctor's lips. 

Mal soon tightened his grip, pulling himself from Simon's mouth. “You keep that up we aren't goin' to have nothin' short of a quick time here, and that ain't my aim.” He released Simon and sat back on the sheets, unfastening his boots and kicking them off with the rest of his garments. Simon unbuttoned his cuffs and crawled over Mal, settling himself back onto Mal's very interested firmness. “You aren't going to undress?”

“I thought you might enjoy it more,” he grinned, leaning back on Mal's thighs. 

“Just like Christmas.” He grabbed the open front of Simon's shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and the rest of the way, watching the way the doctor moved lithely underneath it. “You really are a sight, you know that?” The medic just gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I'm serious!”

“I know. Thank you.” He reached to unfasten his belt, Mal nearly slapping his hands out of the way. 

“Thought you were my present.” He feigned indignance, swiftly unfastening the belt and the rest of the doctor's pressed pants. He plunged his hand between the black fabric and underwear, rubbing along his swollen cock as well as he could mange from that angle. Simon leaned back again with a breathy moan, eyes fluttering closed. “You sure do know how to work a guy up,” Mal near growled. Simon half opened an eye, and couldn't help but smirk, licking his lips in the process. “Yeah, like that.” He ground down onto Mal as he stroked Simon's cock through his briefs. 

“I don't know what you're talking about, sir.” 

“There it is again!” 

“If you're having difficulties with my behavior then I suggest disciplining me.” 

“Oh ho, you don't want to go down that road, doc. 'sides, I'm not lookin' to alert the ship to our little get together.”

“I'll try to stifle myself.” The eye roll was heavy in his words.

“'m gonna make you eat those words here in a minute. Then we'll see who's stiflin' you.”

“You should let me eat something else.” 

“Who are you? And what have you done with my medic?” He hooked a couple of fingers into the zipper of Simon's pants, pulling him further up onto his chest. He reached far over to under his cot, scrabbling for a bottle. Grabbing at the doctor's belt, he shimmied his pants down past his ass, pouring a healthy amount of liquid onto his fingers before swiftly reaching under the medic's briefs. As Simon's hips cantered forward slightly, Mal's free hand held him in place, an eager grin forming as he played with his doctor's tight ass, sliding his middle finger deep into him. Simon's lips parted for a moment, rocking back into Mal's hand. “Good boy,” he leered, adding another finger. And that almost would have annoyed Simon if it didn't sound so good from Mal. His cock strained against his briefs, pressing eagerly back onto those slick digits. Another finger and he had to bite back a sound, a small chuckle underneath him following. “That's it, doc, but I really wanna hear you.” He withdrew his fingers and slicked up his pulsing cock, sliding a rather agreeable doctor back towards his lap. He pulled an edge of brief to the side roughly, guiding himself into the willing body on him. Simon sank back onto him, a throaty moan following him down. 

Simon's hand splayed across Mal's chest as he rolled his hips forward and back. Mal ran a hand through Simon's hair, settling on his shoulder as he tried to rock up into him. “You alright, doc?”

“Just fine, Captain.” 

Mal smiled briefly. “Hold on.” He slid out of the medic, sliding his briefs down to meet his pants, and back into him. He pulled Simon down against him, slowly making his way out and back in. “There, that's much better.” Simon nodded as he panted against Mal's neck. Mal's arms wrapped possessively around Simon's waist as he thrust a bit faster into him, eliciting a shuddering moan. “That's what I like to hear.” Mal grabbed for Simon's face, guiding him up and against his mouth, tongue invading with fervor as his pace sped up. Simon whined against him, breaking away from him. 

“Son of a bitch, Mal,” he panted.

Mal's hands moved to the doctor's upper arms, pushing him back. Simon happily complied, bracing his hands back against Mal's up-angled thighs. The captain's hands were firm on the doctor's hips, thrusting up hard. And Simon couldn't help but cry out, hand finding his solid cock as he pumped himself in time with the thrusts. And he was so pretty, and for a moment, Mal just stared at him, flushed and sheened with sweat and lust; he didn't really think Simon was capable of looking so obscene and undone. And Mal knew that nothing in a long time could have made him so hard, which Simon seemed to be enjoying almost more than him. The younger man's head lulled forward, breath heavy as he opened his eyes to an unfocused stare that settled on Mal's unwavering gaze. “Captain, I...” he almost whispered as his eyes closed, brow furrowed down. A throaty cry fell from him, punctuated by thrusts, fingers digging into Mal's thigh and body tight around Mal's cock. 

“Wou duh Tian ah,” Mal groaned, holding Simon down as far as he would go as the doctor squirmed, and that made him come hard enough to make him lightheaded. He gave a couple more exhausted thrusts before laying back into the floor with a heavy breath, grip releasing and settling for stroking Simon's thighs. The doctor withdrew a slimy hand and braced himself against Mal's stomach. The older man's hands wandered up the slick form over him, up into his hair, back down, and repeated. Little felt like it mattered to Mal besides this moment, and he reveled in that; it had been too long, at least since he was himself in this situation. He coaxed Simon down onto him with some resistance, kissing behind Simon's jaw as the young doctor's breathing slowed. He gave Simon's hip a pat before gingerly rolling him over, Mal braced over him. Simon gave him a sideways glance before closing his eyes and smiling. “Better?” 

“I suppose that'll do,” he said as dismissively as he could manage while hiding a smile.

“Yea? How do they do it back in the Core worlds?” He leaned down and kissed at Simon's neck again, enjoying the taste more than he thought he would. 

“I don't know,” Simon replied somewhat ruefully. 

“What do you mean you don't know?” He leaned back, giving his doctor a firm stare before his expression melted to a hidden panic. “Ta ma de hun dan... are you... were you...?” He glanced down worriedly, then back up to Simon's expression, which had flattened in the mean time to borderline incredulous. 

“I'm a little insulted that you'd think that, considering. I'm a surgeon, not an preacher—though, knowing ours...” As he looked back towards Mal from his gaze wandering, he smirked a bit, walking his fingers up Mal's chest. “Would you have liked that?”

“That you're first time was with a damn-near reever version of myself? No.” He leaned down and nipped at the doctor's neck, smoothing it with a tonguing seal. “Like this...?” Simon could feel him grin against his jaw as he worked his way up to his mouth, the 'most definitely' hanging in the air. “Feeling like I'm defiling you enough as it is, though,” he spoke softly against the other's lips, prodding him gently with his growing length. 

“Oh my, Captain, how you do like to misbehave,” he teased, taking Mal's lower lip between his teeth and pulling gently. 

“You have no idea.” He worked on his neck again. “If I weren't tryin' to make up for last time I'd have you strung up an' pantin' like a bitch in heat.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.” He went to push Mal up, a stern grip on his wrist meeting the floor. 

“That sound good to you now does it?” He leaned back down, laying delicate kisses up Simon's ensnared wrist and into his open palm. Simon grinned a bit more lasciviously than he intended, writhing up against Mal, whose cock flushed solid again at the proposition, sliding against the doctor's too perfect ass. “Let's try and keep this simple for now. I don't think I can handle more complicated just yet.” He sat back, taking one of Simon's legs in his grasp, unfastening the laces and sliding the barely marred leather off, running his thumb firmly down the center of his foot. That earned him a nice noise and flex. He slowly pulled his sock off, repeating the gesture. 

“You sure know how to treat a lady,” the doctor bemusedly taunted.

“Hey, I'm tryin' to do nice... companiony things here. An' your spoilin' the mood.”

“I almost miss the savage you,” he mused, looking off towards the blanket he idly played with. As he turned back, Mal's hand was over his mouth, Simon's eyes wide as Mal's weight settled on him. He grabbed at his arm and shoulders, Mal's gaze finding him just before he thrust hard into the younger man, a choked scream rising and falling behind Mal's firm seal over his mouth. Simon panted hard through his nose, hand soon replaced by the captain's crushing mouth, hands landing a bruising grip on the medic's wrists as he relentlessly drove into the body beneath him. He ravaged his mouth just the same before breaking away to keep Simon from passing out. Every breath Simon took was riddled with broken keening, a thick flush heating him. Mal sucked and bit as his neck as the doctor writhed beneath him, and part of Mal was satisfied at finally rendering Simon wordless; he did warn him, after all. 

Simon noticed his vision blur slightly; the sensation intense and he was harked back to his first intimate encounter with his captain, roiled in that animalistic yearning that he'd only dreamt of for years—something the Core could never offer him. But Mal could. And as much as Simon would fight and deny it, seeing Mal as ruthless as he had become that day assured Simon he couldn't fight it anymore than Mal could. And Mal bit hard over the doctor's throat, marking and marring him, claiming his right over him, a sharp cry from under him not yielding him, but encouraging. 

Mal sat back, practically tearing the rest of his medic's clothes off, exposing him completely, that soft vulnerability echoed in Simon's unsettled gaze, but his parted lips, and deep flushed skin rising to the darkening mark on his neck told Mal different. And Mal was all but content to own him in this moment. Things would change as soon as they were back in clothes, but for now, that wickedly tempestuous and fervid body was his alone, as he would remind Simon as often as need be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it certainly took me long enough. I'm not sure how I feel about how it came out. I was really unhappy with it for a while, but that's the way it goes sometimes. And sometimes you just have to put it out there. So, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll be working on this off and on.


	5. Crossfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this done for months and didn't post it, and I feel awful. It's short, but I'm still working on the story. Enjoy.

Simon's head rolled back as an indulgent moan tumbled from his breath parted lips. If it had been anyone else it would have been obscene, but even when the doctor was at his worst, it seemed, to Mal, that nothing could truly wipe away that pretty and prestigious. One otherwise nimble hand fumbled for grip against the table cloth, the clattering of tools only spurring Mal on, their haste and lack of grace matching his need for this moment. The doctor's other clawed at Mal's arm which was tense as he pulled Simon closer. The captain was buried deep in him and seeking deeper still, taking in that more familiar disheveled look the doctor wore so well and hid from everyone else. His clothes were still mostly on and that made it even better for Mal sometimes; the lust induced anxiety that Simon came to him with when he couldn't think about anything but Mal—it tickled him some, but more-so made him harder than he could ever remember. And this time that landed them on his work bench, but he didn't mind in the slightest. He would turn his whole room upside down to see Simon like this if only for a second, let alone a whole rut. He smiled to himself and kissed and sucked at Simon's partially exposed neck, earning himself another moan and a pleading arch towards him. He really liked that it didn't take much for the doctor, not that he wouldn't have done everything he could, but he doesn't have to think about it. The hard part was getting in, but past the trenches and barbed wire and land-mines, there was just a pretty, elegant, and insatiable oasis.  
The intercom hummed, and Mal could feel all of Simon's walls shoot back up, his body locking up. Zoe's voice was soon to follow. “Are you around, sir?”  
Mal's eyes found Simon's, frustration clearly grinding behind Mal's, borderline terror in the other's. Mal thought for a moment before the comm lit up again. “Captain?”  
He wrinkled his nose slightly before giving Simon an unreadable look for Simon's current state. Firm hand's burrowed under the doctor's ass and lifted him up against Mal's body, Simon protesting, but not enough to get himself dropped. Mal sidled over to the comm, inhibited by the extra weight and his pants making their way down his thighs. He practically fell forward into the wall, pinning the medic in place as he pressed the button. “Whatya need, Zoe?” He settled back under the younger man, giving a good thrust up into him, lips sealed over the other's as he worked him back into relaxed, or at least less on the verge of snapping like a bow string.  
“Wonderin' if you'd seen the doc around. Can't seem to find him an' Kaylee's dinner seems to have trouble knowin' which way it's supposed to be goin'.”  
Mal had made it back down to Simon's neck. Disagreements and bickers intermingled with soft, unintentional noises as Mal kept a steady rhythm in him. Mal's hand covered the doctor's mouth before hitting the button again. “Can't say I have.” Simon gave him a hard look. “But I do recall there being some anti-...”he looked back at Simon folding his hand back so he could mouth the word to him. “nausea medication in the... “ Simon gave him a flat look laced with annoyance before mouthing the words again. “upper-right hand drawer next to the sink.”  
“You doin' alright, sir? You sound a little...funny.”  
“Oh, yep! Fit as a fiddle. Just doing some...” he resisted the urge to say anything that might give him away, like 'doctor'. “You know, some lifting.”  
“Uhn huh. Well, if you see the doc, let him know we're looking for him.”  
“Will do.” He settled his hand back under Simon's weight, looking at him with a fake sincerity and a slight pout. “They're looking for you.”  
“I know. And you should let me go do my job.”  
“You are doin' your job; I need physical therapy. Consider it triage.” He gave another solid thrust into the doctor.  
A quick breath escaped him. “You're not making this easy.”  
“You're already mostly dressed; I'll be quick, I promise.” He kissed him again before finding his neck. He rocked up against Simon, pinning him harder against the wall.  
“Captain. Sir...Mal...Ohh, Mal...” He was stern at first and had tried to fight him, but his body was treacherous and try as he might, he couldn't resist what Mal could do to him or was doing to him. His arms tightened around Mal's neck as he was bucked up against the wall, panting over his shoulder. He could feel Mal's grip tighten against his ass and arched against him slightly, causing Mal to moan into the curve of the doctor's neck.  
The rough friction of Mal's shirt was proving too much, and part of Simon really wasn't pleased with himself when one of the crew needed him more, despite Mal's opinion on the matter. But that hot and heavy thickness of not just Mal's cock, but all of him Simon knew he would never be able to resist. He would crawl and beg, but he'd never let Mal know that—maybe one day show him. His throat tightened around a silent cry as he came between them, heart pounding as Mal's pace quickened. The captain growled against the doctor's burning skin, muttering obscenities a he came deep in his medic. And he really enjoyed that. Getting there was just as fun, but he was really satisfied with 'claiming him' as Simon elaborated one day regarding old lore from Earth that was.  
Simon was shaking in Mal's just as unsteady grip as he slid out of him, a gratifying 'splack' of fluid hitting the barely exposed metal of the floor causing Mal to throw Simon a lecherous grin. He returned a weak smile as he found his footing, hands braced against the wall behind him; maybe colt was a better analogy than he thought. “That good, huh?” Mal leered, watching the younger man straighten himself. Simon's mouth formed around a smart remark, but his brain wasn't quite there yet so he opted for silence. He looked down at his now rorschach printed vest and carefully held it out from his body to inspect it. “Might want to do something about that in between patients.” Simon gave him a borderline glare, unbuttoning it carefully.  
Mal already had his shirt off and another sliding in, suspenders up and over his shoulders before Simon finished with the last button. He folded it inward and let out a heavy sigh—content. He swallowed and rounded around the ladder. “Whoa, whoa, there. You can't just go chargin' up outta here. “  
There was a pause. “Is there a problem, sir?” There was a sardonic emphasis on the last word.  
“Yeah, and she's my first mate. Just...wait. Let me go out first.”  
He cocked an eyebrow and stepped back from the ladder, leaning in close to Mal as he passed, smiling to himself. He watched him ascend and waited. Mal pulled the top open, stepping out and giving a leaning look up and down the hallway. “Alright.” He watched Simon climb, and also saw him go wide eyed as he stepped out into the corridor, gaze settled behind Mal. He turned to see Zoe set with her arms crossed, lips pursed and gaze level.  
“Mm hm.”  
Simon swallowed hard, vest clutched to his chest as if he could hide himself entirely behind it.  
Mal started, but was interrupted. “This man bothering you, doc?”  
Simon looked between her and Mal briefly, Mal starting with a indignant string of half formed words. “Wasn't talking to you, sir.”  
“I... no. No, he's not. Um...where is Kaylee?”  
“Engine room.” She looked more annoyed with Mal than Simon, so any opportunity to escape before that changed was a good one.  
“Right.” Simon turned quickly without a glance to Mal.  
There was a slight pause. “It ain't like that.”  
“I don't much care what it's like, sir.”  
“Oh...well, good. Cause it ain't.” Another pause. “Does anyone else know?”  
“Not that I'm aware of, but you could make more of an effort to be around, or at least let Simon be since there's doctorin' that needs doing. It's not a hard conclusion to draw when both of you are unavailable at one time or another.”  
“Right.” He rubbed his face in his hands and around to the back of his neck, smiling briefly because he couldn't help it. “Fine go shi fengbao I've gotten myself into.”  
“Couldn't do finer, sir.” She certainly had a knack for multi-faceted phrasing.


End file.
